In the End
by Psychedk
Summary: AngelKate. It's Kate's last night in LA, as she's moving away after she was fired. Set between Epiphanyand the Pylea thing. Angel's POV.


In the End by Psyche (Dawn)

Rating: NC-17 for smut and a bit of blood play.

Spoilers: Yes! Season one and two of Angel up till the episode Epiphany. And vague spoilers for eps from Buffy season two.

ooooooo

Winner of ACS Fan Fiction Realm Awards 2002, Best Relationship Story Adult. Yay me!

ooooooo

Here we are again. Well, it's actually not here, it's somewhere else. Other side of town, different night... altogether different circumstances. The only similarity between now and nearly two years ago is that it's a bar. We're meeting in a bar.

A karaoke bar, to be exact. Caritas by 9pm is fairly quiet. Unusual, but not unlikely, and strangely fitting for the occasion. I think Lorne is a little moody himself, and I can't blame him. Seems that every heartbroken kid in L.A. has chosen tonight to express themselves music-wise on the stage, and I think it's wearing down on him. I guess it can't be all roses to see people's pain, and possible the even more painful paths they have to choose. Or maybe it's just the music. I can definitely feel the blonde woman's voice creep into me, her eyes look into mine and seeing my heart.

I blink a few times and let out an almost inaudible sigh. That wasn't the woman on the stage, there. That was Kate on my mind.

And she just entered the bar. I can easily sense her, even with my back turned to the doors. She's radiant, sending off waves of warmth and intensity like the first time I laid eyes on her, and I feel a tingling in my neck. She must have seen me now, because she's moving closer. I'm picking up the faintest sent of her, and I focus my hearing on the sound of her shoes clicking on the floor, barely audible over the hushed conversations around me and the woman on the stage with the mike.

This time, I'm the one sitting by the counter, staring into my drink. This time Kate's approaching me. I'm thinking I should be the one to speak first then, to keep the remake of the scene completely reversed. If only my mouth wasn't so dry and my thoughts all in a jumble.

I look up to the side as she hoists herself on the stool to my left. I must have smiled to her, because she smiles back, and her eyes are shining. They always are. She has the most magnificent eyes I've ever seen. So pale and electric. I must've stared at her because her pulse has quickened little, and she's blushing. She's never blushed before, has she?

"Hey," she says, and I nod to her. She looks at the drink near my hand, and back up at me. I gesture to the bartender, and he sets a martini glass in front of Kate and pours the liquor into it. She takes it in one delicate hand, and we lock eyes as we do a silent toast. I don't know to what, and I don't think she knows either. I take a sip of my drink, and she surprises me by emptying her glass completely.

She sits for a while with her eyes closed, and I can feel sadness emanating from her. She's moving away, leaving this town, and she should be happy that she's getting another chance of having a normal life. But she's not a normal girl, not any more.

"Who's the green guy over there?" Kate asks, nudging an elbow in the direction of the owner of Caritas.

"That's Lorne. Friendly guy. He reads people's auras when they sing."

She nods as if it's the most natural thing in the world. I guess not much can surprise her anymore.

"You didn't invite me here to sing, did you?"

I smile a little and shake my head. "That wasn't the idea, no." I'm about to say that I'm sure she has a lovely voice, but I stop myself. Don't want to make her uncomfortable.

"What about you," she says.

"What?"

"Are you going up there, giving it as Sinatra?"

"You don't want to hear that," I reply hastily, flinching almost visibly at the memory of my singing. Kate just smiles, waving at the waiter to let him know he can fill her glass again.

The blonde on the stage has stepped down, and a guy is now giving a number with a guitar, the jukebox backing him up with the rest of the orchestra. People around us slowly file out on the free space in front of the stage to slowdance in each other's embrace. I wanted to meet with Kate in a bar because it's a public place. It should be a safe, neutral ground, but it's hard to maintain that illusion with the intimate song coloring the atmosphere magical.

"But you have been." It's more of a statement than a question. I turn to look at her.

"Singing your aura to the green guy," she adds before she sips her refilled glass.

"A few times," I admit, slowly turning my drink on its spot on the table.

Scary how she seems to know me so well. Scarier even that I seem to surprise myself constantly. Like now, for example. There's a rather drunk demon standing next to Kate, opposite me, and he's having trouble maintaining his human appearance. As he calls out an order, he shift-shapes, and Kate leans away from him and towards me, avoiding a pair of long tentacles as they grow from the points of the demon's ears,  
swinging uncontrollably to the sides. Her movement has sent a wave of sweet feminine pheromones towards me, and as her hand brushes my knee involuntarily, I feel myself grow hard against my will. Clamping my jaws together, I shift my stool a little to give her more room, and more importantly to escape her effect.

What the hell is wrong with me, I scold, kicking myself mentally. When was control-guy replaced by pussy-whipped-guy?

The tentacle-eared demon guy is waddling away to his table, and I decide that I hate him for putting me in this compromising situation. I keep looking at him, though, his clumsy and ungainly form enough of a turnoff to calm me down again.

As the guy on the stage starts his third melody, I'm thinking that he must have been officially hired to perform here tonight. His fingers play over the strings for a moment, repeating a few accords before he starts to sing. His voice is rich, and he obviously knows what he's doing.

"'S that why you come here, Angel?"

I look at Kate again, meeting her steady gaze. "It's a sanctuary," I tell her. "I guess I feel... comfortable here."

I look around briefly; making sure no one can hear me before I continue, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "And with everybody here looking so out of place, I suddenly feel pretty normal myself."

She rolls her eyes in amusement. "I can see what you mean." Something catches her eye, and she nods towards someone at a table. "At least you don't have hair growing in weird places like that fellow over there."

I turn to look, and I have to smile at the sight. "I appreciate that," I say.

"At least, not to my knowledge," she notes, tugging an errand strand of hair back to its place behind her right ear. I'm momentarily stunned at the personal comment, but I can't help smiling at her. She sees it, and taps her fingers on the counter.

"You should do that more often, Angel. Smile. It suits you."

I've never been good with compliments, and I avert my gaze. "Yeah," I say. "Cordelia's been telling me the same thing."

"Must be true, then." Her eyes glide over the odd selection of beverages standing on the shelves next to the drinks card pinned to the wall. "Well, this place must make me feel comfortable too, or maybe it's just you..." She glances at the partly crowded floor before she turns her face towards me again. "But suddenly I'm not too self-conscious to take the initiative and ask you to dance with me."

I look at her, letting go of unneeded air I hadn't realized I was holding. "Are you asking me to dance?"

"Don't make me feel self-conscious about it."

She's still smiling, though, and I stand, gently taking hold of her arm just above her elbow as she slips down from the stool to walk with me to the other people moving in lazy circles. We reach an empty spot, and Kate turns, putting one arm just around my shoulder, and I take her right hand in my left, holding it to my chest as I circle her waist with my other arm.

"This is nice," she says in her patented dark breathy voice. "Makes me wish we'd done this sooner."

"Yes," I reply, looking down into her crystal eyes.

"Yes, it's nice, or yes, we should have done this sooner?"

Clever girl. I just smirk in response, feeling somehow victorious that she's admitting this much to me. I let my hand spread out flat on her lower back, holding her just a little closer. Amazingly, she lets me.

She turns her face to the side, away from mine, resting her head under my chin. We sway gently like that for a while. It can't really be that long, but it feels like an eternity. I don't even hear the music anymore. My ears are filled with the sweet sound of her heartbeat as it drums near my chest, sending little vibrations through me. She can't feel that, but my senses are strongly enhanced. Being a vampire has its benefits.

She makes a small sound like a grin before she speaks again.

"Sometimes I think about what would have happened if things had been different. If that demon thing hadn't arrived... if you hadn't shown up at the crime scene... if I hadn't had you at gunpoint."

"If I hadn't been a vampire," I add, reminded that being what I am also has its downsides.

"There's that," she says and I can hear the smile in her voice.

I close my eyes and let my head drop to the crook of her neck so I can inhale her. I remember a long time ago when I was good with women, had plenty of them, could pick and choose as I liked. It was never a problem, and it wasn't a problem either after I had been turned. A lot of people are intrigued by the idea of fucking a vampire, or being fucked by one, as it was. Sometimes they'd come willingly. But now...

I shut my mind off from those thoughts. Better not dwell on the past, not after the trip to my dark side I just came out of recently.

I don't know if she realizes it, but her fingers are finding their way to the nape of my neck, gracing lightly over the short hair there suggestively. I sense the sadness again, and her voice has lost its smile.

"I wonder what we would have done," she says quietly, "had we just been two ordinary people meeting in a bar back then..."

I turn my head a little to the side, my mouth close to her ear. "I know what I'd have done," I answer, my voice barely more than a whisper. I say it because it's true, I know exactly what I would have done, and I also know that there will be no other chance for this.

Opening my eyes, I pull back just enough so I can see her face, and I let my gaze move from her electric eyes to her lips. I tilt my head a little and lean in, brushing my lips against hers. She doesn't pull back, she doesn't push me away; instead she urges me closer with the hand at the back of my neck. We meet again in a soft kiss on the lips, and we stay like that, swaying lightly to the music, my hands travelling over her delicate form until I circle her waist, holding her against my body.

Her breath is sweet on my cheek as she inhales and exhales through her nose, and I take breaths of my own, not for needed oxygen, just for the intoxicating scent of her. Her lips, so soft, and at that moment I could've had ten wooden stakes pressed against my back and I wouldn't notice it. I can only focus on nibbling at her lower lip, licking the corner of her mouth ever so lightly with the point of my tongue.

Her eyes are closed and she moans, and then there it is, the ultimate trust. She opens her mouth to me, her tongue meeting mine as she presses my face against hers with the hand that is now sliding through my hair. A small sound escapes me as her tongue swipes under mine, coaxing it to follow her into her mouth, and I comply willingly. She sucks on my tongue, and my hands kneed the flesh where I'm gripping her hips, holding her flush against me, needing the feeling of her warm body.

Our kissing is passionate, tongues exploring, and for a while we can't seem to stop. I run my right hand up and down her spine, tracing its line through the purple v-neck shirt she's wearing as I drink from her yielding mouth. She has her other arm around my neck now, as if she's clinging to me, to the fantasy of us in an alternate reality. A reality where I'm not...

I pull away from her mouth noisily, but the music drowns out the sound from anyone else but us. The break is sudden, and I think I'm shaking from the effort. Her hand comes to rest on my cheek as I shake my head and lick my lips.

"I... I'm sorry," I say, and my voice sounds odd to me as I verbally contradict the physical evidence of what I really want. I know she can feel me, pressed against each other as we still are. We stay in each other's personal space, but she doesn't push me further. Her hand caresses my cheek, and I think she understands, and that's good, because I don't understand anything myself.

I try to find words, but that task seems too difficult, and I have to give up. My arms circle her lower back again, and I rest my forehead against hers. I only recently gained her trust, and now I kissed Kate, and she kissed me back. I close my eyes, listening to her heartbeat again as we stand on the dance floor just like a regular couple amongst the others.

Then the song is over, and we break away from each other as on cue. It's impossible to think about anything else than the taste of her, and so I just stand there like a goof, my eyes flicking uncertainly over the anonymous crowd. Anywhere but on her. The taste of her blood in my mouth from when I bit her and forever marked her haunted me for weeks until Darla and my own darkness swallowed the memory of it. This is different, though. I'll remember her kiss for years to come.

"Angel," she says, and I finally look at her. Her eyes are as clear as ever, no trace of our impulsive lip-lock showing. How can she look so unruffled when I feel like I'm about to fall apart?

"Would you like to go someplace more quiet?"

Again she makes the first move, and I marvel at her courage. She's so strong, and I hope she knows it now; after all she's been through, after her failed suicide attempt.

Then my brain starts to work again, and I recognize her words. It makes me smile. Back then I couldn't go, I was on a mission given to us by one of Doyle's visions. And besides, I didn't know how to explain to her the complexity of what I was. So I said I had to stay, which was true, but not necessarily what I wanted. But now I don't have to stay. It's almost like a second chance.

Almost.

She interprets my smile as a yes, and I silently follow her as she walks between tables and people, making a path to the exit. Maybe I did mean to say yes. This is her last night in L.A. and I don't know when I'll see her again. If I'll ever see her again. I should at least spend it with her.

Passing the counter, I snatch up my duster, which I had left there earlier, and I slip it on. On my way out I cast a glance towards Lorne where he sits at a round table, paying semi attention to a funny-looking female's rant. He gives me a small nod, acknowledging me before refocusing on the woman in front of him. Yeah, the Host isn't feeling very hosty today. Damn music.

ooooooo

Outside, Kate puts her hands in the pockets of her black slacks. Turning, she looks up at me expectantly, and I see maybe the slightest trace of shyness. Her hair is falling in soft waves around her face, shifting a little in the breeze. Beautiful, beautiful Katie. I have to fight hard to resist the urge to cup her face and pull her mouth to mine. I doubt she'll let me again, and I can't afford to push her away. Not now, when we've finally reconciled after so long.

"So," she says, "Any suggestions as to where we might find a more quiet place?"

Tilting my head to the side, I think for a while. I know where I usually go to find peace and quiet: a rooftop somewhere. But I doubt that's her thing.

"Let me think about that," I say, and we start to move down the street where my GTX is parked not too far away.

"Guess you are as familiar with the nightlife as I am," Kate says as she strolls next to me. "I mean, the social kind of nightlife."

"I can be social," I say in a vain attempt to sound convincing. "Cordelia is a very good tutor. Just the other night," I continue, leading her away from the main street and down a smaller and more narrow road. "Just the other night I was at Wesley's with Cordy and Gunn, and we had a Bruce Lee marathon. I socialized all night."

I nod as to emphasize the importance of what I had just revealed. Kate just gives me a raised eyebrow.

"I'm in awe over your choice of film," she dryly comments.

"Blame that on Gunn. Better that than a whole night of Lloyd Webber, which was Cordy's choice."

"Anyway," Kate says, "socializing isn't hanging out with the few selected you always hang out with anyway."

We cross the empty street side by side, and I fish the car keys up from my pocket.

"It's getting out, meeting new people, and doing things you normally wouldn't do..."

Her voice trail off, and she glances at me as we stand on the sidewalk next to my car. Yeah, doing things you normally wouldn't do, with people you normally wouldn't do it with. That what you're thinking, Kate?

I don't have time to reply, though. I'm sensing something, which makes me stop and listen. Abruptly I turn around, just in time to see the baseball bat being swung at me. My enhanced perception lets me realize that if I duck out of the way, the bat will most likely hit Kate and do her much more damage than it will on me. I raise my arm instead, catching the blow with my upper arm.

Kate lets out a yelp as a second attacker throws himself at her, catching her around the throat with one powerful arm.

The blow I took sends me stumbling backwards, but otherwisedoesn't hurt me much. My attacker pauses for a split second, confused, just the time it takes for me to take a step towards him and grab the wrist holding the bat with lightning speed.

"Surprised that I'm still standing?" I sneer, feeling my vampire features settle on my face. With a quick twist I force his hand to release the bat, and I lift him effortlessly off the ground, throwing him several feet backwards through the air before he lands heavily on the ground in the shadows of the alley he and his buddy had been hiding in.

I turn just in time to see Kate struggling to throw her attacker off of her. She nearly succeeds with her police stunt, but the guy is too big, his bodyweight giving him an obvious advantage. He forces her arm behind her, spinning her around so she's facing me and has her back to the guy. He stills her struggles with the silvery blade of a knife pressed under her chin.

"The keys!" he yells, holding her none too gently.

Kate is silent, looking into myeyes that are now yellow. I wonder briefly what she sees, what she thinks. I know she despises this side of me. How can she not, when vampires killed her own father. I suddenly wish I hadn't vamped out in front of her. If I could've just kept it at bay, we could have kept up the pretence just a little longer. That we were a normal couple. That Angel was just an odd name given by very Catholic parents, and not short for Angelus, the deadly killer that has earned whole sections and pages in books depicting murder and mayhem committed at his hands. Correction: at my hands.

I'm brought back to the present situation by Kate's laughter.

"Give me the keys, freak!" the guy yells to me, and I watch, all senses alert, as Kate just giggle even more.

"What's so fucking funny, bitch?" he fumes.

"You really shouldn't have done that," she says through giggles.

"Yeah," I say, taking a lazy step towards them. "You really shouldn't have done that."

Kate suddenly wrenches, turning right and towards the blade. The movement forces her captor to turn with her, lest he lose his grip on her. Before he can reclaim his vantage point, though, I grab his weapon arm, which is now turned towards me, and force the knife away from Kate. He screams in pain, letting her go completely, but instead of moving away Kate turns, yanking her knee up in the guy's chest hard.

I didn't expect that, and as the guy doubles over, clutching his stomach, I let go of the arm holding the knife. I put a hand on Kate's shoulder to keep her away, but before I can take care of the guy again, he lungs towards Kate from his half-kneeling position, knife held in front of him. Kate doesn't waste a moment, reaching out towards his hand and kicking the side of his face as she grabs his wrist.

"Kate, I'll take care of him!" I tell her, using more strength this time to push her out of the way.

The knife has dropped to the ground and I kick it away, taking hold of a fistful of clothes near the guy's neck. Smacking him up against the wall of the nearest building, I lean in close, bearing my fangs to him.

"Do you know what people like you deserve?" I hiss, and he shakes his head, eyes fastened on my sharp canine teeth. I lean back a little to give myself room, and I backhand him hard across the face, knocking his head to the side and forcing a whimper from him.

"Much worse than this," I continue, letting him drop to the ground.

"Don't ever call her a bitch," I say coldly.

The guy scrambles away from us and into the alley where his cohort is still crouched on the ground, holding his head. He hooks an arm under his elbow and pulls him up, and they disappear in the shadows of the night.

I'm still in game face, and I keep my back to Kate while I concentrate on calming the demon in me.

"Thanks for the defense, Angel, but I meant he shouldn't have tried to steal your car."

"I know," I reply, rolling my right shoulder, feeling some soreness where the bat hit me. "I was just hoping to score points from being offended on your behalf."

She grins behind me. With the thread gone, my vampire features retreat again, and I feel comfortable enough to face her.

That's when it hits me. A sweet smell that sends my mind reeling and has the eternal hunger in me screaming. Blood. Kate's blood.

Only now do I realize that she's holding her left wrist with her right hand, giving her left hand a critical look.

"Kate, you're hurt," I say, stating the obvious. I move towards her, looking down at her hand.

"Yeah, I guess I am," she says evenly. "It's not serious, though. Just a flesh wound."

She holds up her hand, showing me her palm. There's a bright red slash across it with blood swelling up, coloring her hand crimson. The smell of her warm human blood is assaulting my nostrils, and I swallow hard, desperately trying to block out the overwhelming hunger. Focus, focus, focus... I can tell she's right, it's not a serious cut.

"Yeah," I muster. "Looks worse than it is..."

She looks up at me at that moment while I concentrate on giving an objective diagnosis.

"... Because cuts in the fleshy parts of the hand always...bleed a lot."

She holds my gaze, and I try hard to read her expression, but I can't. I feel vulnerable, somehow, like I've been exposed; caught red-handed, no pun intended, in giving in to some perverted desire. Cordelia is the only other person who can make me feel so guilty while I'm not even sure what I'm guilty of.

I look away from her drilling eyes, frustrated because at times like this, being an inhumanly strong vampire doesn't make me feel superior at all. Sometimes I justneed other people's acceptance. Yes, Kate, I want to taste your blood. It's as natural to me as chocolate milk is to you, but you can't imagine that, can you?

She waits patiently for me to come out of my introvert moment of self-loathing. There's the tiny sound of a drop of blood spilling from her hand and to the ground, and it makes me shake my moodiness off, determined not to let her stand here and bleed just because I can't collect myself.

"Do you have a first aid kit at your place?" I ask her as she holds up her hand to weaken the blood flow.

"Everything is kinda stuffed into boxes," she replies, walking to around my GTX, and I quickly unlock the door for her.

"I can't very well find anything."

"Right," I say, walking to the driver's side. "We will go to the hotel then."

"Sounds nice," she says, wincing at the pain she must be feeling beneath that cool cop exterior.

I wonder if this blows the idea of safe and neutral places to meet. It's a hotel, I tell myself. It's public. Never mind the fact that I own it, not to mention live there.

ooooooo

The lights in the lobby are on, and as I enter the Hyperion with Kate trailing behind me, we find Wesley storing what seems to have been a large amount of books away. He stands up and brushes dust from his pants, smiling. I'm guessing at the sight of me with Kate tagging along. I know he's glad that she and I are talking again.

"Hello, detective Lockley," the Brit says, and Kate nods at him.

"It's just Kate now," she says.

"Oh, yes. Sorry to hear about that..."

I start to move towards a small storeroom in the back of the lobby where I know we keep the first aid kit.

"You're hurt," I hear Wesley say behind me. Kate gives him a quick briefing on the night's events from when we got to my car, followed by several "Oh dear"s from Wesley. I can't help but smile as I reach for the first aid kit on the top shelf. I'm counting myself lucky that I have friends like him. It's not like I've done much to deserve it, and yet he stays. I guess he believes in me more than I do.

When I return, Wesley is ready to leave, and he nods at Kate, and then gives me a reassuring smile. "Wes," I begin, watching him standing almost at attention at the simple notion of me talking to him.

"Kate and I will hang out here for a while, if that's okay with you." I may own the building, but Wesley is still head of Angel Investigations, which makes him boss over certain areas of the hotel. At least in theory.

"Of course, Angel," he says, breaking open a warm smile. I'm asking him because I know he appreciates the gesture. I know he would never say no, but I nonetheless want to give him the respect he should have as my boss. He's touched, I can tell, at my effort, and he nods wordlessly to Kate again before turning, opening the front door and retreating into the L.A. night.

"We better clean that wound," I say, putting down the yellow box on the counter and opening it. There's no hydrogen peroxide there, but at least there are some cleansing tissues.

Kate moves to stand next to me, with her hand extended. She managed to avoid staining my car, for which I'm grateful, but now red drops have gathered on the back of her hand, spilling onto on the floor.

"Sorry," she says apologetically, and I hand her a piece of sterile cloth. She wipes the underside of her hand, and then dabs carefully around the wound.

"Does it hurt?" I ask her. It's gotten easier to quell the hunger, but still I try not to look at the rich color that fills her palm. I will myself not to inhale. Later, I'll probably need to drink several days' worth of microwave-heated blood.

"I've felt worse. It will probably be a while before I can do the dishes again, though. Guess that's not the worst I can miss out on."

Her wry humor is still intact. I'm glad she hasn't lost that. There's something else that is bothering me, though, and I look at her solemnly.

"What was this about, Kate?"

She puts down the soaked tissue on the counter, taking another one I had ready for her.

"You didn't have to play all macho back there," I press. "Why didn't you let me handle them?"

"Because I didn't know how well you could control yourself."

She spoke fast, avoiding my eyes. I hadn't seen that coming, and I stare at her as her words sink in. After everything that has happened, she still thinks I could kill those people, humans, without thought or remorse. I feel a pang of sadness, maybe even hurt, at her lack of confidence in me.

Then her head jerks up and she looks at me, realization written on her face.

"Oh. No, Angel," she says. "It's not that I don't trust you. I do. I didn't run at the first chance I got after you'd turned into your vampire appearance, did I?"

Pressing my lips together I look away from her. I know she wasn't scared. I didn't smell fear on her when I stood before her and her attacker, but I didn't know how to read what was in her eyes. Fear I know, but trust has no odor.

She touches my arm with her unharmed hand, drawing my attention back to her. As if it's even possible to think about anything else when she's near me.

"I just don't think you trust yourself enough," she tells me softly. "So I wanted to limit the temptation for you."

Don't actually know what to say. I should probably go all defensive now, telling her that I know myself better than anyone could ever hope to, but I know that isn't true.

Kate looks at her still bloody hand, and I can see that she's making a decision. Raising her palm and holding it a hand's length from my face, she looks at me expectantly, her calm eyes searching mine for the right response. Dammit, what is the right response here? Apparently not taking a startled step backwards like I just did, because she follows, never removing the tantalizing hand from me.

"Trust yourself," she urges. I'm sure it's a test, it has to be, and in a few moments I'll know if I passed it, because her offer is too damn sweet to reject. So I slowly cradle her hand in mine as if it were fragile porcelain, lifting her palm to my mouth, my eyes never leaving hers. I'm ready to bold, and I already have a thousand apologies ready at the slightest sign of disappointment in her eyes.

There's a path of red down the side of her hand where a drop has gathered underneath, and I lick it away, moving carefully from the back of her hand to her palm. The memory of this taste hasn't escaped my memory completely, it turns out. I tenderly suck at the flesh around the wound, careful not to hurt her, cleaning her palm with my gentle lapping, sighing as the demon in me is silenced at this unexpected gift of warm human blood. I inhale a few times, reveling in the sensation, and at that moment I feel my still heart singing with sheer joy. Kate lets me kiss the cut softly, cleaning the blood away.

I must have closed my eyes at some point. Opening them with some effort, I glance at her hand. My fingers are laced through hers, both palms turned up and a little angled for better access. The wound has almost stopped bleeding, I notice, and I let go of her as a sudden shyness threatens to undo me. I wipe my mouth discreetly, hoping there are no signs of what just happened.

"See? You did fine," she says, letting her arm drop away from me. Maybe I imagined it, but her voice sounds a little raw. I swallow and give her a look that I hope shows her exactly how grateful I am. Grateful that she trusts me to give me something I never dreamed anyone would.

"It's hard," I quietly admit to her as we go back to the task of bandaging her hand. "I feel like a convict. I'm out on probation because of my soul, but at the smallest slip my freedom will be taken from me, and I'll be right back where I started."

I help her wrap the white elastic bandage around her hand a couple of times to keep the cotton plaster in place.

"You can't change what you are," Kate says, looking at her hand, flexing her fingers to see how maneuverable they are now. "But you can change who you are, and that's what you should make the best of."

I'm glad she believes that, because it makes living easier. Not long ago I doubted that my unlife had any real meaning, but there are forces in the universe that somehow see me as a benefit. They let me enter Kate's apartment uninvited when she lay unconscious and heavily drugged on the floor. I've never felt so relieved as I did when she finally leaned over the toilet and threw up the poison from her body, and I knew that she would be all right. I would have ended my existence if she had died because I was too stupid to notice what was going on around me.

Silence settles around us as I clear the counter and closes the yellow box again. Kate turns away, looking around. She's been here a couple of times before, the first time to arrest me, and the last time when we were sitting on the stairs, talking. The place was pretty dark then; I hadn't bothered to turn on any light since I could see well enough with what little light seeped in from the street, and I doubt that she bothered to take any real notice of the place when she had her mind set on catching a probable murderer.

I let her wander around, as I pick up the first aid kit and return it to the storeroom. Out of her sight, I put my arms on the white concrete wall for wupport. I'm almost afraid to go out again. Tasting her blood stirred the hunger in me, and it's not the thirst for blood. I managed to control the blood thirst, like she knew I would, but I doubt that she knows just how much I wanted to lean her over the counter, rip down her pants, and bury my hard cock in her depth. I still want to, and I'm afraid I can't control that. I just pray that she has more sense than I have.

When I return to the lobby, Kate is sitting on the stairs leading to the first floor of rooms.

"I hear this place was shut down for decades," she says. "You did nice with it."

"Thanks," I say, and watch with some alarm as she stands up and turns to look up the stairs. I can't bear the thought of her in my room right now. I want to stop her, I really do. But I don't want he to leave either. Ambivalence is a bitch, I note with irony, approaching her.

"Why did you choose this hotel?" she asks, and I ascend a few steps. She's still standing three steps further up, and I have to look up at her. But not before my eyes have traveled all the way up her long slim legs, up her body where the purple shirt is hugging the curve of her waist, the material caressing the swells of her breasts, which are, I notice with grim amusement, at level with my yes.

"I... I have a history with it. I lived here once."

She shifts a little under my scrutiny. Way to go, I applaud myself. I just made her uncomfortable.

"... Do you want a drink?" I offer. For an apology it's really lame, but she looks relieved that I'm asking.

I walk past her, and she follows me up the stairs, turning down the corridor with me. It's just for drinks, I tell myself as I unlock the door to the room I live in. Just for drinks and talk. She's heading out of L.A. early tomorrow, so who can blame me for stealing just another moment of her time? Just to talk. Talk.  
Talk.

God, I can feel the heat coming off her body as she waits by my side. I don't want to panic, but why won't the door open?

Inside, finally, and I leave the door open for her. I need distance, and the best excuse I can find is walking to the small table to turn on the lamp. The door closes, and I glance back, seeing her look around. I leave my coat on a chair, and I quickly find a bottle of something I barely notice what is. I grab two glasses from a shelf and pour the liquor into them.

Kate comes up to me, and I hand her a glass.

"That's an old vintage," she says, reading the label of the bottle on the table. "Didn't have you figured as the whisky type."

"It belonged to a friend. Doyle. He had a collection."

"Ah yes, the Irishman." She samples the liquor and I do the same. "What happened to him?"

I look into my glass, suddenly feeling strange. It's been a long time since I touched the stuff. I was afraid it would bring up memories of him. How ironic that I'm trying to replace that memory with someone else who's leaving.

"He died in the good fight," I reply, my voice sounding a bit strained.

"And you blame yourself."

"No," I lie.

She pierces me with her eyes before turning away. I watch her as she walks a few steps towards the middle of the room.

"I'm still grateful, Angel." She turns to look at me, and I put my glass down on the table. Suddenly I don't trust my hand to be steady.

"You did save my life."

"I got you fired," I say regretfully.

Shaking her head, she smiles bitter-sweetly, her gaze fixed on an invisible spot on the floor. "No. I got myself fired. I thought I could handle it all on my own, and in my own way. I was so busy being righteous."

Slowly I approach her, until I meet her in the center of the room.

"I thought I knew it all, thought I knew enough to deal. But I dealt with it the wrong way. I tried to fight alone. And the funny part is... I could have had you, of all people, by my side."

The air is completely still around us, and there's not a sound. Trusth is, there are probably a lot of noises, air vents, traffic from the street somewhere, but I don't notice any of it.

She looks up at me then, and I freeze. There's desire written in her eyes, clear and unveiled, and I realize that she's looking at me that way because that's how I'm looking at her. I want her.

In an instant I'm on her, my hands grabbing her face and pulling her head back as I attack her mouth, my tongue plunging inside hungrily. I meet no resistance, only lust and the taste of Kate and traces of whisky.

She tries to wrap her arms around me, but with a wounded hand and a glass in the other it's difficult. At this moment I couldn't care less about a glass, and I break away from the kiss long enough to snatch the glass from her hand and throw it out of the way. It hasn't even hit the ground before I'm back to invading her mouth again in a searing kiss that would have taken my breath away had I needed to breathe.

Kate moans into my mouth, her hands clutching at my shoulders. I push her backwards with my body until her back meets the wall. The force of the impact makes her gasp, and my hands leave her face to roam down her sides until I'm holding her waist, my fingers slipping under her shirt, feeling warm skin just above the hem of her pants.

"Kate..." I breathe, grinding my already rock hard erection against her abdomen. I need the friction, I need to feel her on me, need to taste her skin. I kiss a wet path down her throat, encouraged by the sounds that escape her. I feel her nails through my shirt as she runs her hands up and down my back as far as she can reach. I lap greedily at the juncture where her shoulder starts. Her pulse is beating right under the skin, tingling my lips and making my mouth water.

This isn't the time, though, so I go back to kissing her, my tongue plundering her mouth rhythmically. There's hardly any room for her to move, and she pushes against my hip, working a hand between us. There's the unmistakable sound of a zipper, and then her hand slips into my boxers, warm fingers closing around my stiff member, making me gasp.

I leave her mouth to look down, dazed at the sight of her milky wrist where her hand disappears into my black pants. Oh God, her hand is working me inside the confined space, and I close my eyes, putting an arm on either side of her to brace myself. I kiss and nibble at her ear, and she purrs, the fingers on her bandaged hand massaging the nape of my neck.

I'm drowning in her scent, and it's nearly too much. Her fingers are wrapped around me, moving up and down and up and down again, her thumb gracing the sensitive spot under the head every time, and I moan again, feeling about to bust right here and now. But something isn't right; I'm not supposed to do this. Danger, my mind tells me. Stop it. Get away. Now.

I think I startle her when I grab her wrist, pulling her hand away in an attempt to stop the torment.

"I'm sorry," I say, leaning heavily against her, not able to let go of her yet.

"Stop apologizing," she whispers in my ear, wrapping her arms around me and holding me close.

"I mean... I can't do this, Kate."

She waits for me to continue, her hands describing soft patterns on my back, and I want to cry. Instead I sigh and lift my head from her shoulder. My voice is unsteady, thick with need, and I can't bear to look at her.

"This whole soul thing, it... it kind of comes with a catch. I can lose it, under circumstances defined as true happiness, I don't... exactly know what the definition is, but the last time it happened... I was with a girl."

I lick my lips, fighting the urge to kick something. Kate puts a hand on my jaw,  
turning my head and making me look at her.

"Is that the kind of slip you were talking about before?"

I nod, relieved that she understands, and maybe a little disappointed that she does. I would have liked to be able to forget the curse, just for tonight. The truth is, I'm not even sure it's there anymore. The spell that Willow used was different from the one the gypsies performed. That one was custom-made for me, with the purpose of making me live a life in misery and loneliness with only the memories of those I had killed as my company. Forever. The original ritual had been lost, Jenny had said, so what she had conducted herself would have been something else.

But there's no way to tell, is there?

"Did you love her?"

I nod again.

"Then we should be safe."

I search her face, wondering what she's telling me.

"This isn't love, Angel. This isn't happiness."

I'm looking at her, and I know she's right. This isn't happiness, this is desperation. I know I could love her. I know I could easily fall in love with this woman who is human but whose mind is as strong as mine. I almost did, before things went so wrong between us. But we don't have time for that now. We're granted these hours before she leaves, and maybe that's for the best. That way, I'll know that she got out of it all right, that she was able to leave the dark sides of life that she had seen, with her life intact.

Kate kisses my lips softly, and my eyes flutter shut, my body and my mind determined to give in and enjoy the sensation.

"If I go bad..." I say against her lips.

"I know I'll have to stake you."

I look at her upturned face, her pupils dilated and slightly out of focus under eyelids partly closed, moist lips waiting for me.

"I always wanted to die happy," I say before settling my mouth back on hers. She responds instantly, her arms encircling my waist as I keep her up against the wall with the weight of my body. My superior strength would allow me to hoist her up easily and fuck both of us mindless for a longer time than anyone else could, but there are other things on my mind.

Kate has put her hands up under my shirt, her hands splayed across my naked back, and I move away for a brief moment to lift my shirt over my head and throw it to the side.

I'm still gripping her smaller frame by her waist, keeping her still and loving the feeling of her, but instead of going back to kissing her, I nibble at her throat, running my tongue down and along her collarbone until her shirt blocks my path.

Hooking two fingers under her shirt I lift it, exposing the short tight top she's wearing underneath, and I pull that up too, just enough to free the soft globes of her breasts. I leave the shirt tugged up like that, touching the outside of her breasts with the palms of my hands. I let two fingers travel in the path of my palms and then down so I can hold her around her waist. Her nipples are already tight points, aching for my touch, and I lean down a little to get closer.

"Angel, yes..." Kate murmurs, tangling her fingers in my hair to guide my face, but I won't be guided. Not just yet. I kiss the underside of her left breast, nudging it upwards with my nose as I lave the skin there. Kate pulls at my hair and I give in, settling my mouth fully over her breast, my tongue tracing the areola before rubbing over the erect bud, provoking gasps of pleasure from her. I suck and nibble for a few seconds, but quickly abandon her breasts, much to her dismay. Don't worry, Kate, I know what you want...

I place wet sloppy kisses in a trail down her flat belly, the sweet scent of her arousal beckoning me to follow and seek out its source.

I'm on my knees, my hands sliding from her waist to her hips and then to the front of her pants to unzip them. She jerks towards me, wanting me close, and I nuzzle against her abdomen. Her scent assaults me, and I pull at her pants, pressing my mouth against the white lacy panties I've revealed, just below the waistband. Her pants are around her thighs now, down far enough, and I lick at her through her panties, working my way between her folds with the lace still separating us. She's already damp with anticipation, and I wet her even more, wiggling my tongue over the hard nubbin I find hidden there.

Kate moans, lifting one foot, and I pull the pants completely off her, followed quickly by her small shoes and the abused material of her panties. I keep her still against the wall with the pressure of my palms even as my thumbs spread her open for me.

I let my tongue slide back and forth along the slit, tonguing her lightly at the entrance to her sex before returning to her clit. There is no pastime I enjoy more than this. I can get a woman off in a matter of a few minutes, and I can make it last forever, working her up and getting her down again over and over. I don't have that kind of patience now, though.

I concentrate on licking and suckling at her clit. She's panting, her arms leaving my head to rest on the wall, and I slip two fingers into her hot wetness, working her skillfully, pressing against the front side of her core at the sensitive tissue, moving my fingers in and out.

She lets out a cry and then she comes, her inner walls flexing around me, hips bucking against me as the wave of ecstasy washes over her.

The moment after she nearly collapses on me and I reach up to catch her, cradling her almost limp body in my arms.

"God..." she breathes into my chest.

"Yes," I reply, helping her remove shirt and top and rendering her completely naked for my hungry eyes. I lay her down on the floor and lean over her, planting kisses on the salty skin above her breasts. I barely think she notices it; she's still out of it.

"You taste so good," I tell her.

My hand is slick with her juices, and I run it over one breast, kneading the flesh, rolling and pinching her nipple with two fingers, which I quickly replace with my mouth. My hands skim down her body and up again. Kate moans again under my ministration. I kick my boots off almost frantically, and reaching down, I unbuckle my belt and pull pants and boxers down, releasing my aching cock from its constraints. The clothes land somewhere unnoticed.

I look up in surprise when I feel Kate's hand on me again. She's hoisted herself up on one elbow. Her eyes are sparkling with renewed passion and she smiles at me before she looks down at the length of my erection in her hand. I let her spread pre-cum around the head, biting my lower lip. Shit, this is sweet torture. If hope she's not planning on blowing me. I'll come instantly if those pink lips lock around me. Better prevent that. I lean forward a little, catching her mouth with mine as she holds me at the base of my cock with one hand, the other stroking me in painfully slow movements.

We should move to the bed but it's just too far away, and I'm already having trouble forming coherent thoughts. I know the floor will be uncomfortable for her, but the way she's jerking me off, I don't think she's given it much thought either. Surely she doesn't expect me to keep a level head at a time like this.

She lies back and spreads her legs under me, and now I'm certain that she doesn't care about where we are. Trying not to crush her too much, I support my weight on my arms as I poise myself over her, my mouth leaving hers for the moment.

For two unbearable seconds she holds me trapped in her hand, my head perched at her opening, and I hiss, burying my face in her neck, inhaling the vanilla scent of her hair.

Then she releases me and I slide all the way into her slick channel, and oh fuck, fuck, she feels so hot and she's searing me! I'd forgotten how hot humans are.

She clutches at my shoulders, writhing under me impatiently, and I pull out, leaving only my head buried inside, before I thrust into her again, going even deeper this time. She catches my face to kiss me, her tongue mimicking the rhythm I've found as I move on top of her. She scrapes her fingernails down my back, digs them into my lower back, urging me closer while I fight for control. Her fingers find the hard muscles on my stomach and my chest, and she runs her hands over the smooth surface until she reaches the two hard peaks of my nipples. She scratches her nails over them, whispers my name against my lips and I groan, the sound coming from somewhere deep inside me.

"Yes, fuck me," she hisses.

Her raunchy words are a huge turn on. So much for vampire stamina. I reach down, hooking my arm under her knee and pull up her leg, angling her upwards against me for better access. I pick up the speed, making sure I'm hitting her clit everytime I'm slamming against her pubic bone.

Kate moans wonderfully. Holding me close, she curls her other leg around my waist. I'm pumping into her hard enough to hurt, but she takes it all, struggling under me to keep up.

My mind is reeling; Kate's making little cooing noises every time I thrust into her to the hilt. She clings to me, her arms hugging me tightly, skin sliding over heated skin.

She gasps, her head thrashing to the side, lost in the fever.

I release her leg, and slipping one hand between our bodies wet with sweat, I find her clit, flicking it between my fingers, and she explodes, crying out as her second orgasm rocks her, her muscles tightening and rippling along my shaft, igniting my own release.

Kate-Kate-Kate-Kate-Kate, my mind goes, finding a mantra in her name as I pump into her a few more times and then growl, finally feeling the power of my orgasm crashing down on me, and I can't stop myself. My demon surfaces and my fangs sink into her shoulder, warm blood filling my mouth even as my cold semen fills her core as I come inside her. At that moment I don't care if I just signed my own death sentence. This is bliss, this is heaven, the only kind I'll ever see.

When I come to my senses again, my human mask is back, and I gently lick at the puncture wounds. Kate is crushed under me as I rest heavily on her, her breasts pushing into me. Her chest rises and falls unsteadily in the aftermath of our desperate coupling.

I pull out of her and roll onto my back. The carpet tickles my naked skin as I take deep breaths out of habit, trying to calm myself. Kate curls up next to me, her head coming to rest on my outstretched arm as she wraps her limps around me. I hold her, and I stare at the ceiling, waiting for any pains in my chest, any indication that this should not have happened.

The blonde in my arms shivers a little against the sudden cooling of her body, and I reach out blindly, finding my shirt somewhere. I drape it over her casually, finding comfort in the thought that if I don't wash this shirt, I'll always be able to smell her on it.

I don't know for how long we've been lying there, but it must have been a while. Kate's words are slurred with drowsiness as she speaks.

"So... you're not turning evil?"

I lick dry lips, trying to find any trace of my soul being ripped away from me and finding none.

"No," I answer quietly.

"Mmm, good," she murmurs, nuzzling closer. I guess it is good, but I can't help thinking of Darla's reaction. She was insulted that I didn't lose my soul over her. I know it had more to do with the disaster I was spiraling towards than her, but I could see her point.

Turning my head, I'm able to look down at the top of Kate's head where her hair lies in a tangle on me.

"You're not... disappointed?"

"That you're not trying to rip my throat out? Not really, no."

"That's one way to look at it," I say. She moves a little, and I can feel her eyelashes brushing over my chest as she blinks.

"It's the only way to look at it," she says calmly. "Angel, you go around feeling bad because you can't have sex when you want to, and when you finally do have sex, you feel bad that you didn't lose your soul because of it. You can't keep doing that. Just... accept what you're granted."

She's so pragmatic. I smile and allow my eyes to drift close. I don't really want to sleep. I want to stay awake so I can listen to her heart. Kate makes me feel good. Safe. From myself maybe. I'm tired, though. Kate is asleep now. She feels soft in my arms.

ooooooo

Here I am again. Caritas will never reject you when you need a place to go. The bloody mary with actual blood in is sitting on my table, half empty. Cordy would have said I should try to be more optimistic; the glass is half full. But that's only true if it was empty from the beginning, and my glass was originally full.  
Full - half empty - empty, that's the proper order.

My drink stares at me, making me think about the night before. I bit Kate, not for the first time, and she didn't retract from me. I felt no disgust in her as her breath came in little puffs on my neck and her fingers caressed my chest lazily. She must have accepted me, what I am, and what I need. I know how some humans react to a vampire's biting, and I can't help but think that maybe she needed it, too. Maybe it's in her blood now, because I marked her the first time it happened.

Or maybe it's something else. Maybe she needed confirmation, proof that we're in fact incompatible. I'm thinking this because I'm scared. Scared that if I realize how much Kate is willing to give me, I won't be able to let go of her. I guess that's futile now. When I woke up earlier, she had already left. Not just the hotel, but town. I don't know where she might go, and maybe that's for the best.  
I could probably find her if I pulled some strings, but I don't think I should.

On the stage, Lorne is singing The Way We Were. I can't help but thinking he's doing that for me. I haven't been up there myself lately, but he says I wear my inside on the outside. He reads me like an open book, and he knows about Kate and I. He smiled at me when I came in tonight, and something struck me. Yesterday, he didn't only nod to acknowledge my presence. I think he was approving. He was telling me that it would be alright with Kate, that I'd be safe. That we would be safe. He doesn't want to believe that he's my link with the Powers, but so far his advice has only proven helpful to me.

My chest hurts a little, but I know it's not from losing my soul. I feel sad, but not as much as I should. I'll miss Kate, but at least we were given a chance to make up for lost time. And in the end, that's more than most people get, isn't it?

end


End file.
